Moments
by TrivialQueen
Summary: Roger/Anita. Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away. Fluff. New Chapter as of 2/12/11.
1. Chapter 1

Moments

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Disclaimer: Characters, plot, awesomeness © Disney & Co. Mistakes © _Moi_.  
Summary: Roger/Anita. Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

_Note: Over my winter break I rewatched my old VHS of 101 Dalmatians (60's Cartoon version) and in my old age I realized a few things. One, this explains why I've never liked fur. Two, Roger, not Mr. Darcy was the first tall Brit I'd fallen in love with (and he's way adorkable). And three, while I recognize that by the name this is going to be a story about dogs I just have to ask: really how do Roger and Anita get from falling into a pond to getting married? This is the question in which this little fic series is based. They're short, they're in no particular order, and they're so sweet your teeth might rot - they're the little moments that make a relationship._

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First Kiss

"Don't mind me," Anita said wrapping an arm around his waist "but this umbrella wasn't built for two so much as one and a half." She snuggled closer as they walked, tucking under the arm that held the umbrella. Mind? Roger was fairly certain he didn't have the presence of mind to mind. She fit so nicely and naturally against him. Pongo and Perdita continued before them along the path, carrying on as if this was how it always should be. Roger glanced down, perhaps it was. Nothing had ever felt so right as this moment standing in the English rain. He had his dog – his best friend – who had found himself a mate and he himself had a woman by his side. A beautiful, kind, smart woman. A woman who was now looking up at him with eyes as blue as a summer's cliché. As his heart raced with simple the touch of her hand his feet slowed down. They were now standing in the middle of the path, their canine companions sitting; looking between themselves and their masters sheltered under the small red umbrella.

Anita's arm had not moved although they had stopped. She was standing so close; he could smell the faint fresh scent of her perfume mixed with the dampness of the rain. He could feel her body heat through their Macks and it made him feel a little light-headed. She didn't say a word and neither did he as they studied one another. Rain, like a falling melody wove its way around them providing a warmth that was purely emotional. He felt her breath on his neck as she tilted her head, still looking up at him with those eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that were drifting shut, hiding behind thick dark lashes.

If she raised her chin or if he lowered his Roger did not know for his eyes had also floated closed. Their lips brushed once, tentative and shy; but met again. The kiss was sweet and gentle. Her lips were petal soft under his own and filled him with a bliss that made his fingers tingle. His heart swooped and in that moment all of those silly love songs he'd written made sense.

Slowly, ruefully he pulled away, looking down once again at Anita who was looking up at him. Her cerulean eyes sparkled and Roger felt his face split into the largest smile he'd ever smiled in his life. One which she returned in equal wattage, eyes still twinkling.

"Good thing I remembered my umbrella." She said softly.


	2. Chapter 2

Moments

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Disclaimer: Characters, plot, awesomeness © Disney & Co. Mistakes © _Moi_.  
Summary: Roger/Anita. Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

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Lazy Sunday

Anita nuzzled a little further into Roger's neck as his long musician's fingers toyed with her hair. He smelled like pipe smoke, rosin and heaven. Pongo and Perdita lay curled together under the window, basking in the mid-morning sun. Another couple completely contented in just being together.

"Listen to this," Roger said, voice vibrating her as she lay curled to his lean chest. They had taken their tea and paper to bed and made plans to remain there the entire day, ignoring everything but this lazy Sunday. Roger read her the critique of the latest revival of _The Tempest_ and Anita read him a few pages of her book. Next to the bed Pongo and Perdita were snoring. Anita was certain that this was the most perfect way to live, curled in bed without a hint of makeup, wearing Roger's nightshirt and making no plans to change anytime soon. Roger's hair was mussed adorably from sleep as he lounged in his pajama bottoms, big bare feet crossed at the ankle. His one hand playing with her hair as he read The Arts section with the other.

Oh if Cruella could see her now, Anita mused. This home was her castle and Roger was not just her Knight Errant but her best friend. Anita smiled and snuggled closer to him with a contented sigh. This was how it should be.


	3. Chapter 3

Moments

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Disclaimer: Characters, plot, awesomeness © Disney & Co. Mistakes © _Moi_.  
Summary: Roger/Anita. Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.

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Holding Hands

He really should be watching the show; he was the one who had suggested it after all. He had been anticipating it for some time now, _La Boheme_ was perhaps his favorite opera and yet since he picked Anita up from her small flat near the Zoo he'd been distracted. To say the least. She was radiant. Despite having pushed her into a pond upon their first meeting she still agreed to see him… and see him again. They'd gone for coffee and taken the dogs for numerous walks. He'd never dreamed of meeting someone who loved the opera like he did. He'd never tell Pongo, but Roger couldn't be happier to have such a wayward hound.

The libretto he'd brought along slipped from her satin covered lap, sliding to the floor between their chairs. They both reached for it, their fingers brushing. She looked up into his eyes and gave him a small smile. In his chest Roger felt his heart do a slow roll then sit up and beg. They sat back up, Anita watching the show and Roger watching Anita.

She made no obvious move, her lovely face remained gazing at the stage; her posture was impeccable, as always. No the shift in their relationship was small. A simple gesture, her hand, which rested on the armrest between them, turned palm up, fingers bent naturally. Yet something about them said 'come hither.' With a mixture of uncertainty and compulsion Roger carefully placed his hand on hers. Their fingers twined and it was as if he had finally found the other half of his puzzle, her hand fit perfectly in his.

He had never understood the allure of holding hands. Now he did. Apparently when one held the 'right' hand the ordinary touch became extraordinary. The rest of the opera they remained this way, Roger's thumb softly stoking the smooth skin of her hand, her fingers gently squeezing his at her favorite parts of the show. Once the opera was over and he helped her into most her coat he sought her hand once again, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His octave and a half grip engulfed her smaller hand, it made him feel happy. A surge of chivalrous protection going through him. Anita was a wonderfully capable and independent woman, yet with her small hand in his he wanted nothing more than to protect her, take care of her. He lifted their hands and placed a chaste kiss across the cool, smooth back of her palm. She flushed slightly but smiled.

He wanted to take care of her… for the rest of their day… if she'd let him.


End file.
